Tennis Fans Have Something to Shout About. Let Them.

My 9-year-old niece played a softball tournament this weekend, and I must admit that I was highly entertained when the ponytailed fourth-graders in pink helmets began growling taunts from the dugout. They were silly little rhymes, but cagily timed. “Uh-oh! I smell salt and pepper!” they yelled in unison when an opponent got set to bat. “Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah” — here comes the swing — “CHOO!”

As players grunt and groan, fans stay silent. They should be able to express themselves. Players can take it. It might help them.

Little Presley can handle mild ribbing and distraction, I thought, but tennis fans act as if their athletes, grown men and women, can’t function around people who aren’t on their best behavior. The game has grown brash and brawny, with players vocalizing every bludgeon of the ball and unleashing breathless displays of athleticism. Yet the average tennis crowd remains silent during the combat, betraying a conscious state only when a net cord elicits a dainty and collective “ooh!” mid-point. Of all the creased edges that still define tennis, none does more of a disservice to the sport.

What would it sound like if tennis fans expressed themselves honestly throughout a match, even when the ball is in play, as if they really cared? Like they do while watching at home, they’d yell at Caroline Wozniacki to rip the darn ball. They’d let Rafael Nadal know he’s going over the time limit between points. They might alert a player if he or she is drifting too far behind the baseline. Hey, tennis fans actually play the sport, and they’re usually sober: They might have good advice for their favorite players every once in a while.

It wouldn’t all be critical. There would be universal chants when someone hits an ace, and player-specific or country-specific cheers would emerge. Catchphrases would take hold, become hashtags, sell T-shirts. Casual fans could get more involved without knowing a thing about spin or shot selection. There’s nothing bad about this.

Would it ever get unsportsmanlike? Yes. And the world wouldn't end. Case in point: my hometown tournament, Indianapolis, 2001, when Gustavo Kuerten and Patrick Rafter met in the final. Kuerten’s fans brought a full-on soccer vibe to the match, clanging cowbells and launching into that “olé” chant between every point. The Indy crowd had never seen or heard anything like it. Then someone went a little too far and yelled to Rafter to “Go home!” The Aussie player stopped his service motion, turned toward the stands, and said calmly, “You go home, mate.” His fans roared. Play resumed. Rafter wasn't too offended to compete. Kuerten ended up retiring from the match with an injury, which is usually a bummer way for a tournament to end. But I bet those fans are still talking about it.